


Happy Birthday, America

by Ayai



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 4th of July fic, Slight Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayai/pseuds/Ayai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America watches the fireworks celebrating his birthday alone, upset that no one came to his party. Oneshot. Featuring special guest star: Canadia! Can be taken as AmeCan, but whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, America

Loud explosions lit up the night sky, each firework sending the crowd below into absolute awe. Waves splashed against the beach that held thousands of captive viewers, all eagerly awaiting the next firework to go off.

That day had been incredibly hot, the temperature reaching a staggering one hundred and five degrees. People had flooded the beach, despite it being in the middle of the week and they were missing work. Many had faced the heat bravely in order to get a good seat for the show that night, and they were cringing over the sunburns they had received, but when the fireworks began, they had all realized it was worth it, three times over.

The night air was nowhere near chilly, but still a far cry from earlier that day. Despite the warmth, a young man rubbed the goose bumps on his arms absentmindedly, his eyes trained on the sky. His face reflected the colors of the fireworks, being illuminated in red, white, and blue. His mouth was turned up in a smile, but his eyes, as blue as the water of the Caribbean, were filled with sadness.

He stood on the deck of his beach house, completely alone except for the Golden Retriever that sat faithfully at his heels, an American flag bandana wrapped around her neck, facing the world below proudly. America watched his beloved people walk about the streets under him, some heading to various destinations, and some gathered in groups, everyone drinking and celebrating Independence Day.

Down the street, a party had begun. Someone had cranked their radio up, and others had flocked towards the music like moths to a light. Everyone had seemed to be having a fun time, and America envied them. He should have been down there with his people, partying and wearing those crazy light up wigs and necklaces.

Instead, he was in his summer home, feeling lonelier then ever. He had invited everyone over to his beach house to celebrate his birthday, but they had all either scoffed and informed him prior of their absence, torn the note up and threw it away right in front of him, or politely taken it, and just not shown up.

America sighed; all he had wanted was people to actually care about his birthday. The other nations had attended Hong Kong's and _Canada's_ party, even though most couldn't even see him! It just wasn't fair, here he was, the world's hero, alone on his birthday.

His smile faltered, his gaze dropping to his dog, Bessie, as the fireworks finished off with a long line of them being set off, the crowd bursting into applause for the amazing show.

Bessie's tail began to wag, creating thumps as it hit the wooden deck lightly, her brown eyes focused completely on America, begging for affection. He rubbed her behind the ears for a moment, before her head spun under his head, watching something behind him. America turned on his heel, coming face to face with an almost carbon copy of him. He stared his timid brother in his eyes, blue meeting purple. Canada broke the silence that hung between them.

"Hello, America."

America's brows furrowed in confusion, "What are you doing here?"

"Why wouldn't I come see you on your birthday?"

"No one else did."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't."

Canada approached him, wrapping his pale fingers around the wooden rail, separating him from a nasty fall to the ground below. America rested all of his weight on it, confident that the rail wouldn't break, as it had just been replaced that spring. America frowned, turning to his brother with sad eyes, "I really wanted everyone to come."

Canada nodded. "I know." America shook his head, unable to comprehend why no one cared about his birthday. He had celebrated every nation's birthday, and they hadn't even bothered to return the favor.

He sighed once again and rested his forehead on his hands, that were clasped together and lying on the railing. A pair of thin—but surprisingly strong—arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. A prominent smell of maple syrup wafted up to America's nose, and he lifted his head to watch his brother who held him in his arms.

He twisted around so his chest was pressed against the Canadian's, and Canada's head was in the crook of his neck. America snaked his arms around his brother's back and returned the hug, putting his chin on Canada's shoulder. Canada spoke quietly and America felt content for the first time that night.

"Happy Birthday, America."

America's grip tightened, holding onto his brother as if he were a life preserver thrown to him when he was stranded at sea.

"Thank you."

 


End file.
